Her equanimity
by Firefly Red
Summary: "Nobody said dealing with your demons was going to be easy, Granger". She gazed down morosely until he continued in a whisper, "Dealing with them together is another thing." And just like that, she realized fallen angels did exist.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: After spending infinite time reading Dramione, I figured I should write one of my own.**

 **This is probably gonna be a five part story. It's my first so please be generous.**

 **All characters belong to J.K Rowling. Words aren't enough to describe how fine her brains are.**

 **This story is set in the post-Hogwarts era. Enjoy fellow dramione shippers!**

Another late start to the day. Bloody great Hermione, just great.

If she was gonna keep up with the late night brooding, for lack of a better word, she might as well would have to request for night shifts which lasted well until the crack of dawn. Granted that would level up her stress levels even more but at least she could sleep through the day and work through the night so as to leave as minimal time as possible to live alone in her dreary muggle flat.

On second thoughts, that didn't seem like a bad idea. After all, she wouldn't have to put up the bright, cheery facade she was forced to adopt after the Wizarding War, since there would be barely be any inhabitants at the Ministry late night. Over the years, she had discovered that she had an acute case of claustrophobia. Hence she had requested for a private cabin of her own but even then, she couldn't block out the noise of people chattering, quills scratching over parchments and hurried footsteps moving here and there.

It was safe to say that Silencio had become her favorite spell.

A quick shower and a half eaten sandwich later, she Accioed her work robes, slipped them over her pastel pink blouse and ink black trousers and finally, _finally_ Apparated herself to the Ministry of Magic.

Unsurprisingly, she almost crashed into a stack of paperwork being levitated by a lazy Finnigan. He flashed her an apologetic smile before quickly strutting off, knowing how indignant the Gryffindor princess could get with him. Mentally, she added " _Making a quick visit to Finnigan's floor to give him a piece of her mind_ " for the umpteenth time to her ever growing To-Do list for the day.

A loud _ting_ buzzed in her ears and she whirled around, catching sight of the elevator which was as routine asked for, crowded again. Huffing to herself, she strode towards it and barely squeezed herself inside before the doors slid shut again.

Was it too much to ask for people to apparate themselves onto their respective floors? The Ministry apparently frowned upon the system of Apparition within the headquarters itself. And for the life of her, Hermione couldn't figure out why.

Everyday, she had to deal with the nuisance of travelling to her floor in a crowded lift. The claustrophobia often flooded over with a vengeance and it took a lot of humane effort for her to not scream. To top it off, she hated the pitying glances thrown at her by a few of her brief travelling companions who made it a point to shoot them every 30 seconds.

They still believed she was grieving.

Barely 2 minutes into the nauseous ride, the elevator abruptly halted to a stop. And then without warning, it threw itself backwards.

Needless to say, Hermione wasn't prepared for that.

In her mind, it was all slow motion from the moment she felt herself falling backwards.

Her eyes squeezed shut, a strong pair of hands braced themselves onto her shoulders to break the fall, then they gently coaxed her body to turn around so that she could look at whoever it was.

When stormy grey clashed with chocolate brown, the haze ended and reality walked back in, patted her on her shoulder and said "That's Draco Malfoy you're looking at."

He almost towered over her, and yet the concern etched into his pointy features as he looked down at her pale face simply killed the intimidation he could have easily used over her.

"You okay Granger?", his drawl almost caressed her body.

"Yeah, just slightly shaken", was her only response as her observatory skills kicked in and she quickly jotted into her mental list the things that were different about an adult Draco Malfoy. His cheeks had filled out thereby lessening the pointiness in his face, the fringe falling over his head and the slightly sleep-mused blond locks covering his head made her wonder if he had finally gotten over his obsession with gel.

His eyes however, were as piercing as ever and they seemed to be staring right through her soul.

She wasn't the only one observing though.

"Still haven't tackled that nest of a hair have you?", he lightly teased.

"I can't"

She looked down when she realized his hands still clasped her shoulders. Sensing her awkwardness, Draco quickly pulled them away and cleared his throat.

For the life of him, he couldn't decipher the reason for those barely-there dark circles under her eyes. For the Brightest Witch of her Age, she had sure as hell done a pretty sloppy job of it if he had noticed.

Nor could he comprehend the waves of unease and sorrow rolling off of her. After years of practice in masking one's emotions, he saw right through the facade the best friend of his archenemy was putting up. He wondered if it had anything to do with her husband's death.

Probably, it had everything to do with the Weasel's death.

He had seen the news on the Daily Prophet and was surprised at how he didn't know how to react. He prided himself on having a cold heart and he knew he could easily score an O if there was ever a test on how well one could mask one's true feelings, but he didn't know he had become so hollow so as to dismiss the death of a fellow classmate who was 1/3rd of the Golden Trio that he despised so long ago.

But then again, he had watched and heard so many people die, so many relics of his past had been wiped away like common filth during the horrendous war that he must have just grown accustomed to the hollowness.

Worse was he had used the excuse of the commotion surrounding his betrothal to one Astoria Greengrass repeatedly so he could dodge the funeral, as well as passing his condolences to the Weasel's wife who happened to be the Golden girl of Gryffindor, Hermione Granger.

He never spoke to her. Not after the War, not after his trial, not after his wedding, not after her husband's death. It had been a long 4 years since his death and he figured it was much too late to convey his sympathies.

The annoying _ting_ buzzed again, wrecking his train of thoughts. A voice on the intercom announced the floor to be the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Draco mentally noted it down to be Hermione's floor as he watched her bustle past him, being among the first to pull herself out of the lift. He wondered idly if his touch had burned her, such was her haste,

She never spared him another glance as she walked off, shoulders tense and eyes straight ahead.

His silvery eyes followed her back until the doors to the lift slid shut again.

He never met her again that day and yet, her brown doe-like eyes haunted him throughout the remainder of the day. There was no spark in them anymore and for a moment, they almost looked lifeless, until she blinked them.

Something was very wrong with Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy could damn himself to hell if he dared to admit that a tiny part of him was greatly bothered.

 **Leave a review please and let me know how this is going. Sorry for the short chappie, I'll make the next one longer.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry this took so long. Thanks for all your patience. Here's the next chapter. I promise to post faster the next time**

 _Her face was streaked with tears as she looked helplessly at her best friend of 10 years and now her husband writh painfully before her on the hospital bed._

 _"Ron", she mumbled in between her sobs._

 _There could be no words to describe the feeling of that hopeless helplessness one felt when they stood whilst their loved ones slowly slipped towards the realms of death before their very eyes._

 _She had so hoped the curse would fade. She had so hoped that all her money and fame garnered from the victory of the Second wizarding war would bring in the best Healers from around the Wizarding World to save her beloved husband_

 _It was all in vain._

 _The curse Bellatrix Lestrange had hit him with was way too dark and way too powerful to be ever remedied. It carved a slow and yet painful path, which built up through the years towards the clutches of death._  
 _Nobody except the person who had initially brought upon the curse on the victim could save him._

 _Hermione never thought she'd regret the death of someone who had left a deep harrow imprint on her arm that would forever remind her she was less worthy than the other halfblood and pureblood witches._

 _That she'd forever remain a Mudblood._

 _"Hermione" Ron's voice sounded ragged with effort and his eyes were bloodshot as he looked up at her from the bed._

 _She immediately clasped his large hands into her own small ones and clu_ t _ched them to her heart._

 _"Yes?" she barely whispered._

 _"After I-I die" he mumbled, tightening his hands in hers. "Promise me you won't mourn your whole life away"_

 _It took every ounce of her strength to not bawl out. Her shoulders trembled uncontrollably as the hollowness in her heart began to strangle her at the thought of living the rest of her life without him._

 _Suddenly, warm hands placed themselves upon her shoulders and she nearly jumped out of her skin, swiftly turning around to meet the sorrowful gaze of the Boy who Lived, Harry Potter himself._

 _Before he could stop her, she had wrung her hands free of Ron's and thrown her arms around her green-eyed best friend and began to sob loudly against his chest, leaving large wet stains of her tears all over his shirt._

 _Harry met the helpless gaze of his other best friend and his heart shattered at the his grim sight, veins pointedly visible across his neck and face and his usually bright eyes void of all emotions._

 _Frankly, he looked like a Death Eater had just sucked all his life away._

 _"Harry mate", he whispered again, his dull eyes now firmly in contact with those green orbs._  
 _"Take care of her for me, alright?"_

 _At this point, Harry was only capable of forcing a light smile on his face and nodding his black head firmly at him in response._

 _Ron suddenly began to cough loudly and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. As soon as the sound of his painful coughs hit her ears, in a flash, Hermione was at his side, clasping his hands and whimpering words of comfort._

 _Harry gravely came over and knelt down next to him on the other side of his bed. Very reluctantly, he grabbed his best friend's other hand._

 _While the two figures huddled over their dying best friend, the rest of the Weasley clan peered from behind the door. Molly's loud sobs could be heard across the whole floor and Ginny had to be restrained from going into the room and standing by as a pillar of strength to her own husband._

 _When they had met Ron earlier that afternoon to say their goodbyes, he had asked them to swear to him that they would allow only Harry and Hermione into the room when he was breathing his final few breaths._

 _He had no wish for his parents or siblings to witness him die before their eyes. They would be emotionally scarred for the rest of their lives._

 _They had seen one of his other siblings die during the War. And they were still plagued with nightmares._

 _He didn't want to haunt them in their nightmares too._

 _The blood began rushing in his forehead with a loud roar and everything suddenly grew blurry and dreary. He vaguely heard Hermione utter an "I love you" from his side._

 _He only scarcely managed to stammer out a "Love you..." before his voice trailed off and he drifted into a peaceful sort of darkness._

 _The last thing he ever heard in this world was Harry's cry._

* * *

A few days and a couple of elevator rides later, with Malfoy standing right behind her, his presence making her as uncomfortable as when he looked through her soul with his stormy grey eyes, Hermione woke up one day in cold sweat, body shivering, eyes watering. She flung herself out of bed and gazed at the cobalt digits on her bedside clock.

9 am.

Not late this time.

She grabbed the half empty Butterbeer glass from beside the clock, _scroungified_ it of its contents with her wand and then hobbled towards her shower, not bothering to cast a glance at how sullen she looked _this_ morning in her full view mirror.

She vowed to not be late to the Ministry this time.

This was one day in the year when she completely drowned herself in her paperwork and made sure to return to her muggle home as late as possible.

Because today, the 6th of April, marked the 5th death anniversary of one Ronald Bilius Weasley.

Harry would no doubt check up on her to see if she was okay. Then he'd join the rest of the Weasley clan at the Burrow after taking off from work at noon. Despite their persistence, Hermione never joined them in their collective mourning every year on the 6th day of April.

She liked to keep her mind busy today.

When she'd come back home around an hour or so after midnight, that was when the tears would begin to flow and the loneliness would engulf her.

Yet she preferred it that way. She preferred to be alone on the night her life lost all joy and her many dreams were broken.

Thankfully, Harry and the Weasleys respected her wishes.

They gave her the space she so desperately yearned for, hoping that being the strong-willed Hermione Granger she was, she'd come out of her shell at her own ease.

What they didn't know however was even bricks would break when under immense pressure.

Hermione was pressurized by her own sorrow and broken heart. And even she didn't realize how hazardous that was going to get if it wasn't helped at once.

* * *

This time, when she _Apparated_ with a crack at the ground level of the Ministry, she did not bump into levitating stacks of paper by courtesy of a careless Finnigan.

When she headed for the lifts, she noted how there was practically half the crowd there was as compared to the previous few days.

It was amazing how being 2 hours early could make such a big difference.

This was part of her annual 6th April routine though so it didn't cease to surprise her.

What wasn't part of her routine though was standing next to a certain Malfoy for the 6th consecutive day during the brief ride to her floor.

He had acknowledged her presence with a light smile and she barely made eye contact with him for 4 seconds before reciprocating his smile and looking away.

Thus she missed the rapid transition of his smile to a frown.

When he very slowly and cautiously pulled in closer to her body until she caught the whiff of his expensive cologne, she suddenly began to feel claustrophobic again.

And yet, she made no move to pull away.

Instead she welcomed the heat waves that radiated from his body, rather easily

It made her claustrophobic, in a good way. If that made sense at all. Like his cologne engulfed all her senses and for a short and concise period in time, she imagined there was absolutely no one else in the elevator expect them.

 _The depressed mind often tended to fasten itself over diverse substances, living or non-living that appealed to it as a likely means of comfort._

Draco Malfoy's cologne had become one of those substances she vaguely recalled reading about on one of her many ventures to the library.

It somehow fascinated her.

She knew he was gazing down at her before she even looked up. There was just a lot of heat in his gaze which was easily felt on oneself.

She dared not to look up.

Until he softly called out to her "Granger"

For half a second, she contemplated on whether ignoring him would be a good course of action.

But eventually, she didn't.

Brown eyes looked up, instantly locking with his own piercing greys. "Yes?" she asked, politely.

"Are you sleeping well these days?"

For a momentary minute, she swore he was making fun of her on purpose in the vicinity of prying eyes. However when the memory of her applying an extra dose of glamour charms all over her face that morning hit her, she was mortified.

Had he, the arrogant Malfoy heir and former childhood tormentor, of all the people in the world figured out yet another way to harass her? She cringed at the thought of him going and spreading stories in the entire ministry about how Hermione Granger, former war heroine had been reduced to a sleepless mess of bushy existence.

 _Ron died today and he's going to make fun of me._

Suddenly, it was claustrophobia all over again. Malfoy's questioning eyes, her travelling companions' unwelcome side glances, being confined to a handful of square meters and her own misery.

It was suffocating.

When the elevator stopped at Level 2, she was the first one to rush out.

She wasn't prepared to be pursued however.

She heard the rapid footsteps behind her and didn't have to look back to see who was following her for she knew all too well.

Suddenly, with all her emotions swirling around her head and the haunting memories that had occurred on that very day about 4 years ago, in addition to all that pain she had bore through at every spitefully spat "Mudblood", she became enraged.

Without warning, she had whirled around to face one Draco Malfoy who halted as he met her fiery gaze and began to scream.

"Aren't you done with making fun of me your whole life?! Couldn't you just leave me alone in my already painful existence without breathing down my neck?! You are a sadistic prick, just like your father was. Incorrigible if I must say so myself."

She didn't even care about the many people who had stopped their work to focus their entire attention on the unfolding piece of drama.

To say Draco Malfoy was taken aback would be an understatement. He was beyond taken aback.

He was absolutely bewildered.

He didn't even find it in him to reply to her accusations.

And just when he thought things couldn't get worse, they did. Infinitely worse. It was horrific to say the least.

Because he suddenly saw fat drops of tears begin to trickle ever so slowly down her cheeks.

Suddenly, he felt incredibly at unease. There were more than a dozen pairs of eyes currently latched on to them and there seemed no escape at all.

And as if Merlin had answered his silent prayers, Head Auror Harry James Potter appeared out of nowhere at his best friend's side who without further insistence, wrapped her arms around him and began to sob quietly into his work robes.

"Back to work, the lot of you!" he looked around with a dangerous glint in his green eyes, daring anyone to contradict his direct orders.

Fortunately, there were none.

Potter then turned his sharp gaze towards his former classmate and archenemy.

Malfoy was sure he was going to land into deep shit until Potter gruffly asked him to stay where he was and then disappeared off to a nearby room, with a still sobbing Hermione at his side.

Mere minutes later, he reappeared again. This time, his face seemed drained and weary, as if he was still carrying some sort of burden over his shoulders despite having saved the Wizarding world from being sucked into Voldemort's demonic plans.

Hermione for that matter, was nowhere to be seen.

Potter stared at him for a long while and Malfoy fought himself to not squirm under his almost accusing look.

"Merlin Potter, I didn't harass her I swear!" he said out loud, looking down uncomfortably and running a hand through his blond locks rather restlessly.

"I know you didn't"

At this, widened grey eyes shot up to meet his green-eyed gaze again.

"How come?" he muttered, now looking rather baffled. "You'd jump at any chance to punish me wouldn't you?"

"It's about time you grew up Malfoy. Clearly you are still stuck in the past"

"I'm not" he growled, annoyance taking over.

"Oh really now? You haven't even moved on from Astoria yet"

"Don't you _fucking_ dare bring that up"

Saint Potter seemed to look apologetic at that. "You're right, I shouldn't. It's not my place to lecture you on it"

Malfoy just looked gloomily at him.

Both men stood quietly, each one silently brooding over his thoughts.

Harry let out one of his weary sighs after the course of a minute and then rubbed the place on his forehead where the faded scar still persisted.

"Hermione is in deep mess" he finally broke out.

Malfoy merely flicked a brow at him, seemingly intrigued.

"Ever since Ron's death, she hasn't been herself. Shut herself off from everyone, except me and sometimes, even Ginny. I'm scared I'll forget how she used to be."

Harry almost expected a mighty snort to come out of his former enemy's mouth on his little "pityful" story which would have been such a Malfoy thing to do.

But perhaps hell had frozen over. Or perhaps if he opened the window at his left right now, there would be flying pigs storming the sky.

There was no slight lifting of his lips, or even the usual amused twinkle in his silver eyes. He looked rather...perplexed. He probably underestimated how hurt he had been at Hermione's sudden lashing out.

"Today, it's Ron's death anniversary" he continued, in that same hoarse tone. "Her nerves are on an extra edge today. Usually a lot of things set her off but today, she's a ticking time bomb."

"Why did she come to work today then?" Malfoy finally questioned, in an unusually quiet voice. Again another un-Malfoy like thing. Harry almost missed the sarcastic and often condescending bites to his voice.

It reminded him of simpler times.

"She refuses to listen. Works the most today so that her mind is off of Ron."

"Well, is she still in there?" he nudged a pointy chin at the room where Harry had supposedly left her at.

"No. I've sent her home via the Floo. I promised to go back to her once I sorted out things with you"

"Oh" was all he could utter in response.

"She doesn't mean what she said, " he added in a slightly kind voice, the one that left Draco Malfoy feeling a little nauseous Knowing her, she'd come apologize to you tomorrow"

"I hope so Potter"

Again another minute of silence. Draco then finally decided he had done enough chit-chatting with Saint Potter for the day.

"I best be going now Potter. " he said, turning around to head for the lifts. "I can't be seen talking to Potty Potter for an hour now. Whatever would the Daily Prophet say about that?"

At this, Harry had to smile and for a moment, Draco was scared he'd come and give him a big bear hug.

He seemed like he needed one. Too bad he wasn't up to that level of enthusiasm.

"I'll see you around Malfoy" He gave him a curt nod and then turned on his heels and walked off into the room he had earlier entered with Hermione.

Malfoy stood there another for a couple of seconds, no doubt pondering over the Chosen One's words before he too left for his own floor.

He had figured out what he needed to do.

* * *

 **Next chapter, more of your questions will be answered and your eagerness for more Dramione interaction will be fulfilled. Let me know how this is going. I'll post the next one very soon**

 **Penny for your thoughts is welcomed:)**


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione sat with her head burrowed between her hands on the living room couch, her legs twitching in anticipation of her best friend's return.

Her mind was still reeling from the scene she had made at the Ministry not so long ago.

When she had first Floo-ed home upon Harry's insistance, it took her a couple of minutes before she began introspecting how irrationally angry she had been with a man who could have been genuinely concerned about her.

 _'Could'_ being the keyword here.

Granted she was always extra irascible each year on the 6th of April and that's why she mostly kept to herself for fear of lashing out at the tiniest instigation. She had heard Harry once remark tiredly to his wife via the Floo, "It's that time of the year for her Ginny".

Her loved ones knew her well enough to leave her alone this one day in her life. Draco Malfoy wasn't one of them though unfortunately so that curbed her nagging conscience momentarily.

Until Harry came back, settled comfortably next to her on the couch and gave her a little _talk_.

You could say her conscience was drenched with guiltiness by the time he was done.

"No matter how touchy you get on this day Hermione" he had started off, looking at her through those spherical spectacles of his with the one emotion Hermione dreaded, disappointment. "Malfoy didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of your lash out"

"I didn't mean to Harry" she mumbled glancing down at her hands before looking up again.

"I know you didn't" Harry said, smiling slightly when he remembered how he had uttered those very same words to the former Slytherin an hour ago. "But Hermione, no matter how much you're currently jusitfying your actions by thinking he's still the pureblood prick we all hated once, it was still irrational"

When a glum look wove itself across Hermione's features as she gazed down again, Harry sighed and brought up his hands to tenderly cup her cheeks so she could meet his eyes once more.

"Whilst you have been living in this shell, things around you have changed a lot. Including Malfoy. Let me tell you this Hermione. None of us emerged from the war unscathed. You aren't the only one dealing with those demons inside your head. We all are. And so is Malfoy

When Hermione made to cut him off as he anticipated, he added quickly "I've spent more time talking to him over the years than you could ever imagine. So I know"

Hermione looked extremely dumbfounded at this. Perhaps the world was finally tilting over its axis. Because as much as Harry thought she was unaware about the lives around her, she wasn't dumb enough to forget their bitter decade long rivalry at Hogwarts.

"How am I supposed to make sense of this?" she spoke quietly, unable to believe her own ears. "Last time I checked, he was out for your neck wasn't he?"

"Last time you checked was probably 8 years ago at the war. Things have changed"

"I...see" was all she said.

Harry sighed again and dropped his arms to his side as he made to get up from the couch.

"I gotta go now." he said, glancing at the wall clock as he stood. He glanced back down at her with his earnest green eyes "The Weasleys would be waiting"

Hermione nodded whilst flashing him a numb smile as a token of assurance.

"You sure you don't wanna come?"

"I'll be alright Harry" she said softly.

At this, her raven-haired best friend leaned over her , pressing the lightest of kisses on her forehead and brushed a stray brown curl behind her ear. When he pulled back, his green eyes fell on the photo frame hanging across the room near the kitchen.

His heart ached as he realized what was happening in the moving picture.

It was a snowy morning scenery, depicting Hogsemade in the background. Hermione and Harry stood arm in arm, smiling widely at the camera for the briefest of moments before being pelted with a barrage of snowballs from behind. As they pulled apart and turned around to face their attacker, a ginger-haired boy stood behind them, guffawing at his best friends' surprised looks.

It was the third member of the Golden Trio, Ron Weasley.

The picture kept repeating in a loop and Harry had his eyes locked on to it for the longest time before he finally looked away.

He glanced at Hermione who thankfully hadn't seemed to notice him noticing the frame that hung across the room. She stared straight ahead with a dazed look and Harry immediately realized the clogs in her brain were busy.

He finally decided to leave, knowing nothing could be said or done anymore and was gone in a bright burst of green flames

With this, Hermione Granger was left alone in her dreary muggle flat to deal with the pangs that continuusly hit her heart.  
And for the first time in her life, she couldn't differentiate between the pangs of guiltiness and pangs of loneliness.

* * *

Surprisingly, the day didn't drag out itself as Hermione had feared. Some part of the day was spent in tears as she browsed through old photo albums and remembered her deceased best friend and husband. Some of it was spent in taking brief 30 min naps thrice during the evening after her weeping tired out.

And yet some of it was spent pondering over the words her other bespectacled best friend had instilled in her mind. About demons. About Draco Malfoy.

The former Slytherin was a closed book, if there ever was one and he rarely wore his emotions on his well tailored sleeve. Yet whenever she remembered how strucken his silvery eyes had looked when she had snapped harshly at him, a pang would course through her veins.

And it both confused and frustrated her. She had never felt guilty for breaking his nose back in Third year at Hogwarts so why now?

Ever since Ron's death, 6th April was always spent entirely within the confinement of her cabin at the Ministry. It greatly helped to keep her mind off things and she accepted the shedding of tears over him only at night. Her mind told her if she stayed at home the whole day, the tears would flow non-stop throughout morning and noon.

Working late at the office was a better alternative then exhausting herself with all the crying.

But now for the first time ever, she was at home, surrounded by every possible memory that would remind her of her husband and she was so sure that her fears were gonna come true and she'd have to stay back the next day too because of how terrible she was going to look.

Shockingly, none of it happened.

The tears had flown undoubtedly but not enough to exhaust her, or even contemplate taking the next day off from work. She blamed Harry for distracting her from her mourning for a whole hour before finally grudgingly admitting out loud that it was a rather stupid excuse.

She was too scared to admit that she didn't miss Ron as much as she was supposed to.

That would mean she would gradually stop crying over him as the years passed by because she no longer missed him as much as she did 4 years ago.

And that would mean moving on and Hermione Granger, like Draco Malfoy, was very much stuck in the past.  
Moving on would mean changing and changing would mean new beginnings and Hermione was just not sure she needed new beginnings again.

She intended to break Ron's dying wish by mourning her life away. Her depressed state of mind demanded that she should. And Hermione believed she no longer had that strong will to help break free from her depressed shell.

But perhaps with someone's help, even the seemingly impossible could become possible.

If she only knew.

* * *

The next day, Hermione Granger didn't wake up late, despite it not being Ron's death anniversary anymore.

She just did, out of sheer coincidence.

At least that's what she told herself.

Despite not having cried the whole night or so, she still needed to place her glamour charms for dark circles didn't disappear overnight. And a mere 20 minutes later, she had _Apparated_ herself to the ground level of the Ministry of Magic and immediately headed for the lifts.

Her body was tensed with anticipation. She hoped to catch Malfoy in the lift that very morning, apologize graciously to him and then never see him again for the rest of the day.

At least that was the plan.

When she did step into her usual choice of elevator, there was no Malfoy to be seen.

She was shocked at her own feeling of great disappointment.

She didn't even know on which level he worked and inquiring about it from others really didn't seem like a good idea since she had already caught many cautious glances being thrown at her.

No doubt most of them had already been briefed about everything regarding the previous day's episode on Level 2 of Ministry of Magic.

Hermione let out a weary sigh as the lift doors slid shut and it began to elevate from the ground.

Could she get another chance that very day?

As these thoughts swirved in her mind, she nearly jumped in shock when a small hand tugged onto her work robes.

Her brown eyes quickly swooped down, only to be disconcerted at the image of a platinum-haired boy staring up at her with wide grey eyes, worry etched all across his features.

Even without the Malfoy smirk, anyone could tell who his father was. The platinum hair and silvery eyes simply gave it all away.

"Are you Miss 'Mione?, he asked anxiously.

"Well, yes I am", she responded, after having found her voice.

To her furthur shock, he clasped her right hand into both of his small clammy ones and held on as if onto dear life.

"Good" he breathed, now flashing her a light toothy smile. "Can I spend the day with you?"

Before Hermione could fall speechless, she knew she had to ask "Where's your father, honey?"

"Daddy is at a meetin'. I came down to look for you"

"For me?" she echoed.

"Yes"

"But honey, why?"

"Daddy said you was sad. I don't like anyone sad", he gazed at her with such earnesty that Hermione's heart ached more at his beautiful grey eyes than his words.

His eyes reminded her so much of his father.

"Can I spend the day with you?" he repeated his question, almost pleading now for an answer

No one could have it in their heart to say no to such tiny sweethearts.

"Of course you can" she was now smiling at him of her own accord without even realizing it.

The little boy's grey eyes widened more with joy along with his toothy smile. He looked to be no more about four and Hermione's quick mind informed her he could have been conceived around the same year Ron had fallen ill and ulitmately died.

She had been so wrapped up into her own troubles that time and maybe that's why she never heard about the Malfoy heir being born. It bugged her how she could have overlooked such big news and couldn't even recall people chattering about it.

Had she fallen that deep into her depression to have been so deprived of the knowledge of happenings around the world?

When she looked down again and met his eyes, she realized she never asked for his name.

"What's your name sweetie?"

"Scorpius Malfoy" the pride in his voice and the very Malfoy-like smirk he gave her almost made her want to roll her eyes at him playfully. Still a toddler and she could already see the Draco Malfoy in him.

The elevator stopped with a ting on her floor and Hermione walked out, her hand still clasped around both of Scorpius'.

The little stubborn thing refused to let go of her.

She caught many of her co-workers give her less than subtle glances, some offered hesitant smiles when they were rewarded with one of Scorpius' loving toothy smiles.

She walked quickly to her cabin, the toddler right on her heels. Casting the _Silencio_ and locking the door to her cabin with another muttered spell so as to ensure her privacy wasn't prodded upon, she set her things on her desk and turned to look at the young boy.

"Honey.." she asked sweetly, a thought suddenly hitting her at that moment. "Does daddy know where you are?"

To her horror, Scorpius smirked again and shook his head with a little singsong "Nope"

Bugger!

"Why didn't you tell me before? He could be worried looking for you"

"He's in a meetin'" Scorpius answered, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke.

"Well, the meeting will end in some time don't you think?" Hermione had unknowingly adopted that matter-of-voice again which had been rusting in her voice box for so long.

Scorpius only looked at her with an obstinate twinkle in his grey eyes. "He told me about you and he won't beat me for meeting you"

Now Hermione was appalled. "What did he say?"

Scorpius suddenly looked solemn all over again and Hermione began to dread the things his father could have told him. The sudden grim palor that had taken over the young boy's features immensely intrigued her and she awaited his response with baited breath.

"He came home yesterday looking sad. And I don't like when daddy gets sad" he said, in all the enviable innocence a four-year comprised of. "I asked him to tell me what made him sad"

"Then?"

"He said he hurted you. And he made you cry. And when you cried, it made him very sad"

Hermione never knew how much warmth a few words uttered by a little boy could bring to her. Even with his limited grasp on the language, Scorpius had made her heart skip a beat by just one sentence made up of the most simple words.

 _And when you cried, it made him very sad._

She didn't break into his story-telling as he continued.

"He said you was very sad. And you've been sad for years. 'Cause your band died"

"What?"

"Your band" he repeated.

"You mean Ron?"

"No, your band. You married him before he died"

"Yes, him. His name was Ron"

"Ron" he breathed and tilted his head at her curiously. "Does Ron have a star too"?

"Sorry?"

"Daddy said he has a star in the sky"

Hermione smiled softly at this. Of course, he meant Draco, the constellation.

"No honey. Ron didn't have a star" she was now kneeling down infront of his 3 and a half feet stature so she could have a better look at him.

"Oh" he looked very disappointed for a moment, a frown furrowing his pale brows before he abruptly resumed his story again.

"Daddy has been sad for years too 'cause mummy left him" he said, in that guileless voice of his and Hermione was too taken aback to immediately respond.

"So whenever daddy gets sad, I hug him" Scorpius now smiled his childlike smile again and Hermione was torn between feeling sorry for his father for having no wife anymore and feeling sorry for the young boy for being deprived of a mother

"Daddy said my hug is magic" a proud glint shone in his silver eyes when he said this. "He said my hug takes his sadness away. He said my hug could take anyone's sadness away. So I told him I would hug you. Then your sadness could fly away, like his"

Scorpius was smiling so brightly at her and seemed so giddy with happinees when he finished that the tears welling up in Hermione's brown eyes went completely unnoticed.

"Will you hug me then?" she whispered, reaching out both her arms as an invitation.

To which Scorpius complied easily and threw his small arms around her eagerly. Hermione's own arms went around him instantly, enveloping him in her fruity and yet floral scent. She closed her eyes briefly and wondered how wonderfully therapeutic a child's hug could be, just because he uttered a few things to her in all his naivety.

She even absently wondered how such a beautiful child could be the son of one Draco Malfoy.

They remained locked in an embrace for several minutes before she pulled away and smiled at him.

The young boy reciporcated her smile with his own excited toothy one.

"Did that take your sadness away?"

Hermione had never smiled so wide and genuinely at anyone in the last 4 years as she did at the Malfoy heir.

"Yes honey. It did. Should we go to daddy now?"

* * *

 _"Level seven, Department of Magical Games and Sports, incorporating the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club, and Ludicrous Patents Office."_

With the customary _ting_ , the elevator doors opened with a smooth whir and Hermione stepped out hand in hand with Scorpius. _So this is the floor he works on_ , Hermione thought to herself, allowing the young Malfoy to tug her by the hand and lead her to his father's office.

She mused over the way her nerves seemed to be on the edge again, but for an entirely different reason.

It was more out of nervousness in facing the man she had so easily humiliated the day before rather than that impending anger she was well known for.

She tried not to dwell on the fact that her heart beat was faster than the usual 60 beats per second as they neared in,

 _"Draco L. Malfoy"_ was boldly emblazoned across the door that led to his private cabin, very much like Hermione's.

He must hate the crowd and noise too.

The meeting must have ended or never even took place because the door to the conference room was wide open and when she had peeked in, it was deserted, except for a man arranging the chairs around the table. She couldn't figure out if it was for preparations or he was merely straightening them out after the meeting had ended because Scorpius had dragged her away.

They stood in front of the door that led to the former Slytherin's cabin and Hermione knocked.

"Daddy!" his excited young son shouted from outside, sounding every bit the eager four year old he was.

A husky voice immediately called from inside "Come in son"

Scorpius tightened his grip on Hermione's hand and then flung the door open with an excited declaration of "I did it daddy! I took her sadness away!"

Draco Malfoy shot up from his lavish chair, not having been prepared to see the witch in question stand right before his very eyes, for a change looking rather out of words whilst his son held her hand possessively.

She refused to meet his gaze, instead choosing to watch his son with what could only be called as fondness.

She did look up to make eye contact when he softly called out to her, much he like had done the previous day during the elevator ride "Granger".

Their eyes locked and for the briefest moment in time, they refused to look away from each other until Draco's work robes were tugged incessantly by a restless Scorpius and he had to look down at him.

"Daddy, I did it" he said, this time more with the Malfoy pride that was rather characteristic of his family rather than shouting it out loud like an undisciplined child. "She said my hug helped"

At this, Draco looked up again and felt an unreasonable jolt of joy shoot through his veins when she gifted him with a rare genuine smile.

She had never, _ever_ smiled at him before. In the more than 2 decades he had known her, it was always an exchange of scowls and frowns and even on his part, vicious insults.

He wanted more of her smiles. They were infinitely better than all the dirty looks.

He walked over to where she stood, noticing how with each step, her face slowly, so very slowly flushed.

When he had closed in, his cologne dutifully breezed over to her, and Hermione was once again enraptured.

It appealed to every nerve on her body and for a maddening second, she yearned to be forever enveloped in his cologne.

"Granger" he addressed her rather cautiously, not wanting to press any of her nerves over to the edge again, even by mistake.

She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent in the process and then locked her brown eyes on his grey ones. His eyes, though of the same shade as his son , contrasted in emotions. While Scorpius' had much liveliness filled in his orbs, Draco's seemed to be filled with a certain anxiousness.

And dare she say, tinged with bit of concern.

He certainly had his guard down today because the Draco Malfoy she knew, would never express such an array of emotions, be it by his eyes.

Or his actions.

"I'm sorry for yesterday...Dra-Malfoy" she said softly. "I never meant to lash out. I really didn't"

She had expected a whole variety of responses from him but never in her wildest imaginations did she expect him to answer with a rather smug "Apology not accepted Granger"

This time, she knew without a moment's doubt that he was obviously teasing her.

Behind him, she heard Scorpius chuckle and clap his hands happily, catching on to his father's playfulness with much better ease than her.

Draco didn't allow her to speak as he added rather hastily. "Let me take you to dinner tonight"

"What?"

"Let me take you out tonight" he repeated again and watched her carefully for any indication of irritation.

There was none thankfully. She was thoroughly bewildered. Her eyes spoke volumes of emotions. He resolved to elaborate instantly.

"You obviously haven't relaxed in a long time Granger" he said, keeping his eyes trained on hers and ignoring the way the curl that had strayed its way out of her bun kept taunting him from the corner of his eye.

"But...there are still so many things I need to know"

"That's why I'm asking you to join me for dinner."

"So we could know each other better?"

"No, so you could know me for how I am now"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him at this. The way his words made sense once again appealed to the rational side of her brain. He knew she still judged him from his past and had thus, never seen him for the man he was now.

He was offering that opportunity to her now. Get to know what he was really like as a man. And not as the scared 17 year old who had chickened out of murdering Albus Dumbledore an eternity ago.

It could mean cleaning the slate and starting afresh.

It could mean new beginnings.

The conflict going on in her mind must have been evident because suddenly, she saw Malfoy raise a reluctant hand and finally, brush that curl behind her ear that had been nagging his mind for only some time now.

His eyes seemed to zero in on hers and she instantly knew he knew her unspoken fears.

There seemed to be no Scorpius in the room anymore. It was just her. And him.

Slowly, he moved that hand away from her ear and very gently, allowed itself to rest on her right cheek, his warmth inducing into her a dizzying sense of comfort.

"Nobody said dealing with your demons was going to be easy, Granger" his voice sounded like serenity to her.

She gazed down morosely, until he continued in a whisper.

"Dealing with them together is another thing."

And just like that in the blink of an eye, Hermione Granger realized fallen angels did exist.

Because there was one standing right before him, with silvery eyes and fair blond locks.

She accepted his invitation without further hesitance.

* * *

 **Hope this has been good, two more chapters to go!**

 **Leave me a review, it'll be greatly appreciated:)**


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